#give him a cuddle for me

[starflungwaddledee]

time flies when you're feeling loved. happy birthday, bandee! [x]

[timethehobo]

Want to cup his cute lil face.

[liloslittlethings]

louis finding liam to give him a hug

(via Honda Civic Commercial behind the scenes part 1)

[tategaminu]

My vision for Zym in Arc 3

I gave him more features from Zubeia than Avizandum since I love boys looking like their mamas, I hc he will look more like his father as he grows but will mostly be on Zubeia's side (guess he will get the Santa beard as well at some point). I suppose he won't be extremely big in the third arc since Archdragons live a lot and are very very big so their growth may be slow? he will only be 9 after all. Adult Archdragons have reptilian eyes while Arc 2 Zym has sparkly anime eyes, so I guess they will morph into more reptilian as time passes, tried to do a combination here.

[dediezzyyy]

Is my love enough?...

Cw: some cursing, fem!Atreides reader, arranged marriage, one-sided love, angst, bittersweet fluff, Feyd is head over heels for you.

Feyd has always hated physical touch. The kind of intimacy that one would share with their lovers. He felt himself shiver in disgust at the thought of being emotionally intimate with anyone or anything, really.

He never allowed his harpies/concubines to caress him in a soft and domestic way. It made his stomach churn, and he always threatened to slit their throats if their hands lingered for even a second too long.

He never wanted to be hugged by his brother and certainly didn't want any sort of touch coming from his uncle.

Sure, he would play with the slave warriors in the arena, and he let the servants apply paint onto his skin before every match. But he didn't tolerate any of that romantic intimacy.

Feyd-Rautha did not need to be vulnerable with anybody.

That was, until he met you; his arranged wife and daughter of Leto Atreides. You completely fucking bewitched him.

You were the sweetest thing he's ever met. Shy, a bit awkward and with a kindness he's never seen on other people. But you were not a delicate flower. You've been through many things. You were fierce when you wanted to be, yet decided to stay kind.

You had a weirdness to you that you only ever expressed when you were with your family; a weirdness that only ever came out with the people you trust and love. He was, unfortunately, not one of those people.

He only saw glimpses of your personalities, a small crack of light in the many walls you've built to protect yourself. He never knew that he would soon be the one to desperately want to see you. The real, true, and beautiful version of you and not just the quiet, nervous, and grieving version that is shown in the Harkonnen palace.

It made his heart squeeze, and his stomach churn. He absolutely loathed the thought of you being terrified and depressed. Yet it made his heart and stomach drop at the thought of himself being the cause of your miseries.

Yet the tension was still strong between you, and you didn't dare speak a word in fear of upsetting your arranged husband.

Of course, being arranged husband and wife, you had to display little acts of affection to prove that your marriage wasn't weak or easily broken. From time to time, you would hesitantly squeeze his hand and place a small, shaky kiss on his cheek; hoping this would satisfy the public and wouldn't make your arranged husband want to slit your throat.

Feyd-Rautha never thought he would completely melt to such small acts of affection.

Every small kiss, hand brushed against yours, every moment where you would lock eyes-Feyd could feel his heart beating a little faster as his lips would part in a silent hitch of his breath.

Over time, he believed he wouldn't be able to take it anymore; Feyd needed to experience the soft, sweet touch of your hand caressing his face, the honey-like taste of your lips against his and the warmth of your body tangled in his own-

And it wasn't just the physical touch, either. He longed to have silly conversations with you and to hear the music of your laughter dancing like a melody in his ears. He wanted to see your bright, warm smile shining when you saw him; he wanted to learn every habit and detail you had and write gospels about it and put them into the Harkonnen history and culture.

He fucking hated the fact that you both slept in separate bedrooms. The only reason he allowed it was because he valued your privacy; but that didn't mean he wanted to break through those doors and hold you in his embrace until he couldn't anymore.

You were the only thing that would plague his mind every second of the day and entirety of the night. He only cared about you; you and you only.

Feyd-Rautha would dream of you, dreams that would feel that they could make ones heart burst with light and love. He soon dedicated every kill to you; a promise that he would return to you safe and whole no matter if he fought a slave warrior or a soldier.

You were praised and worshiped without even knowing it.

You had him completely wrapped around your beautiful finger, yet it was almost laughable of how you didn't seem to notice-or care, in fact.

You still feared the Harkonnens, even your betrothed husband. And you had every right to, Feyd was not delusional. Yet, that didn't mean he didn't feel his heart being stabbed every time you scurried in the opposite direction whenever you caught a glimpse of him.

Feyd-Rautha believed he was falling completely in love with you, everything about you. Soul, body, mind, and all. He would kill for you. He would kill himself if he even thought of laying a finger on you. Yet you still feared him and were too deep into your sorrows to realize this.

But that was alright, he didn't mind waiting. Even if his mind and heart were practically screaming at him to tell you what he truly felt about you, but sadly, he would have to wait. He hated waiting.

But for you? He would wait an eternity. He would wait and count all the stars and the planets as his love grew for you every moment of the day and night. So that when you finally opened your heart, he could overwhelm you with the infinite love he had for you.

Perhaps Feyd-Rautha's love for you would be enough for the both of you. And that would be alright.

Every waking moment, he feels like he will die if you do not tell him you love him back.

[padsmoony04]

BOOM SHAKA LAKAAAA!!!!

Raw. To the point I'm melting. To the point that my soul is about to levitate and leave my body. every day, every night, for the 365 days of the year. Next question.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I take back my former Luo Binghe design. Big Buff Binghe is too standard. It's expected. The sillier angle to take is: manifesting his small, needy dog energy into physical form.

[vanityangel]

YOU NEVER LOVED ME!

[leggyre]

very difficult picture to take. he's 2 seconds from jumping away because I'm not petting him

[jaybirdlovebot]

jason todd craves touch in the most innocent way possible

jason who's never the first one to initiate a hug, but when someone else does, he lingers just a little longer than necessary, as if he's trying to memorize the feeling of being held. he's never the one to let go first, leaning into the touch as long as you'll let him.

jason who will fix someone's gear without any real need or correct the way they hold a knife or a gun and who would rather die again than admit this is the real reason he switched from his usual gloves to the fingerless ones.

jason who never reaches for a touch openly. instead there are small, almost unnoticeable gestures like bumping a shoulder after you crack a joke or sitting a little closer on the couch to feel the warmth of the person next to him. rest your head head on his shoulder or even fall asleep on him and he'll sit still for hours, breathing evenly with you until the tv sounds melt into something incoherent and his own eyelids grow heavy. maybe he'll even go as far as gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders or resting his cheek on the top of your head.

little spoon jason, who would’ve been absolutely terrified if someone had suggested sharing a bed a year ago. now he can't imagine falling asleep without the warmth of another body behind him, without familiar arms wrapped around his waist, holding him like he’s something precious, not broken glass taped back together.

jason who has come such a long way from lying stiff with every muscle tense like a trap waiting to snap shut, flinching at every accidental touch from how foreign it felt to practically melting in someone else's hands.

jason who never thought he’d ever feel this safe, loved and taken care of.

[timethehobo]

He’s tired and stressed and just wants Rook back.

[bunny-uninterrupted]

imagine your f/o dragging you to bed after you've stayed up super late. would they coax you to bed with gentle reassurance, or would they just grab your arm and physically pull you to your room? how do they lull you to sleep? do they cuddle you, or perhaps play with your hair, or sing you to sleep?

^ (use this as a gush pass btw ^^)

[dailyhtfboards]

Day 139

Today’s board is:

Man he just like… absolutely whet and miserable here huh??

(From TV episode 13A Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow)

[canirove]

Brentford Vs. Arsenal | 01.01.2025

[moeblob]

she's filled to the brim with love...

[djarinova]

candles and cuddles

spencer reid x gn reader

Spencer comes home from a day out in the city and finds you feeling overwhelmed and tired, so he helps you get the rest you need to recharge yourself. content - fluff, comfort, cuddles words - 2.2k

The keyrings rattling outside in the hallway stir you from your thoughts and you smile briefly, knowing that this means Spencer will be walking through the door any second now. You can hear him struggle to get the key separate from all the keyrings, and you can’t help but feel giddy. Despite the fact that you know he likes to keep his keys fairly free and accessible, he still uses all the keyrings that you’ve gotten him from the various trips you have taken, both with and without him.

“I bought this really cool book. Come and read it with me?” Spencer asks, his voice alerting you to his presence, now inside your shared apartment.

You look up from your spot on the sofa, tilting your head to indicate your question. 

“Would you like me to explain what the book is about?” His voice is gentle; in the same way a hot bath can soothe achy muscles, his voice soothes the aches in your soul.

You nod your head in response, straightening your back and stretching your legs out in front of you. You had been sitting in the same spot for the last few hours, waiting for Spencer to get back from town. He had been out shopping and had stopped for lunch somewhere with Derek, leaving you to fend for yourself at home for the afternoon. You’d managed to get a couple of the chores done from the long list you’d given yourself, but for some reason once the dusting in the lounge was completed you had found yourself almost completely devoid of motivation.

“Are you sure?” He pauses before adding, “are you okay?”

He puts his bag down without looking at the floor, and steps towards you. His eyebrows knit in worry and confusion, your lack of words seemingly causing him to be concerned for you. 

You clear your throat before speaking. 

“Yes I'm sure. I'm okay, I promise.” You give a small half smile to try and back up your words, and to try and convince Spencer, but by the look on his face you know he doesn't believe you. Goddamn profilers. 

“Did you have a good afternoon?”

You hope that asking him a couple questions will help to ease you back into talking, but your voice is very small when you first speak, and you assume it's because you haven't spoken out loud since he left. 

“Yes, we did, thank you. Derek was unhappy about being dragged around to all the small, dingy bookstores, his words not mine, but I think he forgave me after I bought him lunch.”

You can't help but let out a small laugh at that, it does sound a lot like Derek, he loves to tease Spencer. Even more so when they’re both out shopping and Spencer is trying to buy new books, he’s said to you before that Derek finds his need for over checking and going back and forth a million times between stores a little excessive sometimes, all to ensure the perfect book is bought, but you know Derek only means it lovingly. He'd never say or do anything hurtful towards Spencer intentionally. 

“That sounds about right.” You answer with a laugh. 

Spencer is right in front of you now, having removed his scarf and coat, leaving them untidily thrown about on the nearest chair. 

You feel the sofa dip under Spencer’s weight, and you can tell by his short sigh that he wants to ask you if you're okay again, but you speak before he's able to. 

“It's okay Spence, I really am okay. Just tired I think.”

Spencer nods, willing himself not to keep prying. He knows if something was really wrong you would tell him, he just needs to give you some time first. He has come to know your ticks and quirks quite well now, the two of you had decided to move in together almost a year ago now, and you had been friends long before your romantic relationship started, so he is familiar with how your brain works. 

He watches you as you shut your laptop and place it on the table, his eyes following your hands as he shuffles back into the sofa to get comfortable. As you lean back Spencer puts his arm around you, bringing you closer to his side. You let out an audible breath of relief at the contact, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer. 

“Do you want to take a nap with me?” Spencer asks, squeezing your shoulder with his hand. 

“Spence, you know I'm not good with na—”

“I know, but resting can help with feelings of exhaustion, even if you don't actually fall asleep. It's important to let yourself rest in order to help boost your mood, and resting can also help reduce stress and improve your creativity and motivation.” He pauses, tilting his head to look at you, before adding, “I don't want you to burn yourself out.”

Spencer punctuates the end of his sentence with a smile, and you can't help but smile back. The ways in which he wants to help and look after you never fail to make you happy. 

“Okay,” you agree, “let's go to bed for a bit.”

You can tell Spencer is happy you said yes by the way he jumps up almost immediately, extending his hand toward you and practically pulling you to your feet. You let out a laugh as he drags you to your shared bedroom, watching as he struggles to hold your hand and get the room organised enough for you both to relax on the bed comfortably at the same time. 

“Spence, it's okay, I'll sit.” 

He looks at you as if he'd forgotten you were still attached to his hand, almost as though he'd become so used to your presence beside him that he hadn't even thought to let your hand go, even if it meant he'd be able to organise the room better. 

Spencer had long considered you a part of him, almost since the very first moment he had met you. The way you seemed to light up the room as soon as you entered, your smile was warm and inviting, and your voice… He had never heard anything like it. He hadn't turned around upon your entrance on that first day, he knew that Emily had invited a friend to the bar, but he was focused on watching Derek play pool against Rossi. Although, more accurately, he was focused on telling Derek the precise ways in which he was bound to lose the game; the way his stance was wrong, the way his hold on the cue was wrong and how he was breathing at all the wrong times in order to make the perfect shot. But as soon as he heard you introduce yourself to JJ and Penelope his head had whipped around, his eyes falling on you immediately. There was no mistaking his feeling in that moment, he needed to know you. 

And he hasn't lost that feeling in all the years he'd known you, it had grown and changed as the two of you had become more and more familiar. What once was needing to know you, had then changed to needing to hear you, needing to see you, and now, needing to be near you.

Even as he gently let go of your hand and watched you quickly sit on the edge of your bed he wished he was nearer to you. He wished he could feel your soft skin against his, and feel your chest rise and fall with your breathing.

His longing made his organisation an entertaining thing to watch. His steps were hurried, his feet tumbling over each other and you were surprised he hadn't fallen head over heels yet. You placed your hands on the bed behind you, leaning back onto them slightly as your eyes followed Spencer around the room. He was caught in his own world and luckily didn’t notice your staring, although you could feel your face heat up at the thought of him catching you. He was focused on clearing the bed at first, he had moved the scattered papers and books left there from your morning in bed, and had moved them onto the chair beside you. Next he had ensured all the curtains were closed, only left open the tiniest crack to allow some of the air to flow in from the open window. He had then flicked off the main overhead light, choosing to turn on the warm bedside lamp on his side of the bed instead. And finally, he fluffed up your pillow, turning to you when he was done and extending his hand towards you, stretching it as far as you could in a bid to get closer to you.

Smiling, you accepted his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet and lead you towards your side of the bed. He had left your favourite green fleece blanket at the end of the bed, and as soon as you laid down he wasted no time before placing it over your body. You smiled, wiggling a little to get comfy. Spencer checked the room one last time, as though he needed everything to be perfect for you, and paused. You weren't sure what he was doing. At first all you could see was his back as he rummaged through a draw, but it didn't take long for you to realise his idea once he turned to face you. He was holding a matchbook.

“Which scent?” He asks simply.

“Hmmmm,” you tilt your head and purse your lips while you think. “I don’t know, there’s so many— Oh! How about the white jasmine and sandalwood candle you got me last week? I haven't had a chance to use it yet.”

Spencer nods, and wordlessly walks to your bedside to light the candle. He smiles as he watches you slowly close your eyes, happy that you’ve given yourself some time to rest.

“Spence? Are you going to continue watching me, or are you going to come and join me under this blanket?” 

His smile widens to a grin at your words.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m coming.”

And, true to his word, after barely a minute he is next to you. 

You curl your body towards his, lifting your neck so he can slot his arm underneath it. You can feel Spencer bouncing his foot ever so slightly underneath the blanket, and you smile, leaning further into his chest. You hadn't realised how tired you had been, but you feel it now. You take a deep breath, wanting to relax yourself even more. You can smell the outside on Spencer’s shirt, a fact that, although is not unsurprising, does make you a tad disappointed. Until you met Spencer you never realised how addicting it can be to be enveloped in a partner’s smell, you never realised that a smell could make you feel so relaxed and so calm. Draping your leg across Spencer’s body you take another not so subtle sniff, trying to smell that familiar mix of vanilla, coconut and coffee.

“Are you smelling me?”

You bury your face in his chest before answering, and you feel Spencer squeeze your arm.

“Yes.” You whisper.

“You like how I smell?” His question is genuine, but his voice is small—almost as though he was afraid of the answer.

You crane your neck upwards to look at Spencer.

“Yes.” You whisper again, with a smile on your lips.

You feel your cheeks warm as Spencer looks at you, you think he must be looking for a sign of teasing on your face. 

When he doesn't find one he pulls you even tighter against his chest.

“Thank you.” He breaths, the words barely perceptible. 

You smile, wrapping your arms around him as best as you can from this angle, and you feel his other arm lay on your side. His touch completely surrounds you, and you can hear his heart beating in his chest. The rhythm relaxes you, and coupled with the candle and the dim lit room, you find your eyes beginning to feel heavy. You know sleep is not far away now. 

“I love you Spence.” You whisper. “Thank you for looking after me.”

Spencer watches you as you finish speaking, he loves that he was able to help you this afternoon. And, despite your regular insistence that you can't nap, he feels your head go heavy and he can hear your breathing change. He knows you must be practically asleep now, but he doesn’t mind, he always has his thoughts to keep him company, and luckily when you’re in his arms he knows it will always be the good thoughts, and never the bad ones.

“I love you too, baby.” 

Spencer’s voice is quiet so as to not disturb your peaceful rest, but he hopes you hear him. He hopes you are able to hear what his actions say to you.

I love you, I love you, I love you

You mean everything to me